by John Hulme
& THE POWERS THAT BE
CORDIALLY INVITE YOU AND A GUEST TO
A RETIREMENT CELEBRATION FOR
FIXER LUCIEN CHIAPPA (#12)!
WHEN: MIDSUMMER NIGHT’S EVE
WHERE: THE FLIP SIDE, THE SEEMS
RSVP: [email protected]
Kindly indicate your choice of entrée when RSVPing:
Corsican Chicken Casserole
Blackened Compliment with Medley of Seasonal Squash
In-Between Burger & Fries
Music By:
The Procrastinators, The Musical Genius & More!
NO GIFTS, PLEASE.
JUST BRING YOUR BEST MR. CHIAPPA STORY TO SHARE!
Admits one plus guest. Original invitation required at door.
SEEMS CROSSWORD
*For solved puzzle, please visit www.theseems.com > Fixer’s Lounge
Across
1. He only got a C+, but it sure came in handy
5. They’re usually in Alton Woods (if you know where to look)
8. “A ______ in Time Saves Nine”
12. Connects The Seems and The World
13. 2400 is perfect
14. Loves to watch Jinx Gnomes (or from Charlie Brown)
16. Rachel Adler Bat-Mitzvah, in a manor of speaking
17. Jennifer Kaley’s Case Worker
18. Their “Tom Sawyer” rocked both sides in the 80s
20. Simly’s grandpa Milton’s favorite baseball team
22. Last sighted near Tatoosh
23. 12th Sense
24. Fixer #1 meditates here
25. Casey tried to surf these (you shouldn’t)
26. He can be found flipping burgers at this side
27. National holiday in The Seems
Down
2. Sweeter than a blackberry or a boysenberry :-)
3. Simly ______ Frye
4. Little Unplanned Changes of ______
6. The Glitch and Permin live there now
7. Sleep ingredient--not Refreshment, not Snooze
9. Comes in regular and messenger bag styles
10. “____ to Fix, Fix to ____”
11. The Institute for Fixing & ______
13. “You can’t be twenty on _____ mountain, though you’re thinking that you’re leaving there too soon”
15. Easier way in than a Door
17. Freck family winter chalet
19. Only place to get a newspaper (or Soft Drink) in the In-Between [Hint: BeckerBlog]
21. Becker’s friend Connell Hutkin’s mother’s second husband
Deleted Scenes from The Split Second
In every Seems book (and all books, really) there are many scenes that end up on the cutting-room floor. But in this book, dear reader, you are in luck! We have decided to release two never-before-seen deleted scenes from The Split Second. Read on and enjoy.
Deleted Scene #1: “Stanton & Rivington”
This scene was part of a larger subplot involving Fixer #11, also known as Lisa Simms. In her “real life,” Lisa is first violinist for the London Philharmonic Orchestra, but she is famous in The Seems for being one of the three Fixers who took part in the Mission known as “Hope Springs Eternal.” This thread was meant to explore the complicated relationship between Fixers Simms, Jelani Blaque, and Tom Jackal, who broke Lisa’s heart long before he “died” on The Day That Time Stood Still. In the end, the authors decided to save that story (and the fate of escaped Tide operative Lena) until The Lost Train of Thought.
———
Corners of Rivington and Stanton, New York, New York
“Simms to Central Command, come in.” Lisa Simms ducked into the shadows of a construction scaffold and whispered into her Receiver. “I’ve got her.”
In an apartment across the street and three stories up, Fixer #11 could just detect the slender outline of a woman nervously pacing and smoking a cigarette.
“Where is she now?” came back the Dispatcher.
“Appears to be a Tide safehouse.” She upped the magnification of her Trinoculars™ and took a closer look through the gauzy white blinds. “I think she’s alone, but I can’t be sure.”
Lisa had just arrived at 274 West 12th Street to investigate the loss of radio contact with Becker Drane when she had spotted a female dressed in black scaling down the fire escape and making the final ten-foot jump to the sidewalk. The fugitive matched exactly the description of the Tide operative named Lena. She was listed as “at large” in the most recent Mission Update, and the Fixer had immediately given chase through the streets of the West Village, below Washington Square Park, across Broadway, and finally to here, at the corner of Stanton and Rivington.
“Should I take her down?” The violinist knew that her classical training applied not only to Beethoven and Rachmaninoff, but to the art of Fixing, and if she needed to extract Lena from New York City, she wasn’t afraid.
“Negative.” The Dispatcher’s voice was hoarse beyond recognition from the longest day of his career. “Maintain surveillance until further orders or ground situation changes.”
“But, sir, I was hoping to assist Drane with the Fix.” Lisa snuck a quick peek at the Blinker on her belt. “Mission Update says ‘Split Second repair in progress.’”
“That’s a double negative, #11.” The Dispatcher’s tone left no room for argument. “This is the best chance we’ve ever had to observe the Tide’s World based operations. Besides, #37 is already being assisted by Fixer Jackal.”
In her twenty-plus years as a Fixer, Lisa Simms had experienced more surprises than she cared to remember, and she felt quite confident in her ability to roll with the punches. But nothing could have prepared her for the words that she’d just heard in the ear-piece of her Receiver . . . or what it felt like to hear them.
“Fixer who?”
Deleted Scene #2: “The Small Blue Envelope”
Cutting this scene from the book definitely hurt, because the authors wanted to return to the place where the story began. It was removed from the last chapter in the interest of pacing, but hopefully readers will enjoy finding out what happened to the people we met there . . .
———
Los Angeles, California
A tall, skinny kid in hospital scrubs took off his headphones and stepped beneath the overhang of a weather-beaten bus stop. The noontime sun was high in the sky, and since most of the commuters who used this stop were still at work, the bench sat unoccupied. Which was all good as far as Harold “C-Note” Carmichael was concerned.
This had probably been the craziest week of his life. He’d gone from down to up to up to down so many times, he didn’t know which end was which anymore. But when Tony the Plumber had slapped him on the back and told him the one thing that every Briefer longs to hear— “I think I’m looking at #39!”— C-Note thought he’d finally, FINALLY, arrived at the top. And then he came back to The World . . .
There, tucked into his mail slot at USC Medical School was a small blue envelope, which he knew meant only one thing: the score on his dreaded surgical exam was in. Two weeks ago, C-Note was pretty sure he’d shanked the thing, which would pretty much end his notion of becoming Dr. Harold Carmichael. Or at least the kind of doctor that his mother always dreamed he could be.
As he sat upon the bench and tried to work up the courage to open the same blue envelope, two people he recognized as regulars on this bus line stepped in from out of the sun. It was that nice but shy young Mexican girl and that really NOT nice guy in a business suit who C-Note usually did everything he could to avoid. But what he couldn’t figure out was why they were holding hands . . .
“Hola,” said Albie Kellar, noticing the Briefer’s stares. “How you doing over there?”
“I’ll tell you in about thirty seconds.”
Albie whispered something in the ear of Anna Morales, and she smiled, as if some secret were passing between them. Together, they watched as the student/pizza delivery driver/car detailer who would in two weeks be promo
ted to the ranks of Fixer opened up the envelope in his lap and read the score that was printed on the page. Interestingly, his face had no reaction whatsoever—not until he picked up his cell phone and chose one of the numbers programmed into speed-dial. At that point, it was pretty clear to Albie and Anna exactly how C-Note was doing over there . . .
“Hey, Ma . . . guess what!”
Office of the Administrator,
Department of Thought & Emotion, The Seems
Eve Hightower stepped to the front of the executive suite, having exchanged her judge’s robes for the business casual attire of her office. But there was nothing informal about the way she cleared her throat and began to address the four others who’d been asked to join this classified briefing.
“I know you probably expected the administrator of T&E to run this meeting, but as you’ll soon see, Dr. Thinkenfeld’s absence is not a coincidence.”
The Second in Command grimly turned to the first page of the Mission Report and continued.
“Yesterday morning at exactly 07:35 a.m., a train loaded with all The World’s Thought for the next six weeks departed on schedule from the End of the Line. Unfortunately, it failed to reach the next station stop in Seemsberia—let alone deliver its precious cargo back to this department.”
The gasp that slipped from Becker Drane’s mouth wasn’t the only one in the room.
“When all attempts to reach conductor or crew proved futile, the decision was made to assemble a team of Fixers whose combined skills made them uniquely qualified to locate and retrieve the missing train.”
Eve Hightower pressed the intercom button at the head of the table.
“Kevin?”
As the AV Mechanic dimmed the lights, Eve swiveled her chair around to face a flat-screen display.
“Central Command received the following transmission early this afternoon.”
The images that flashed onscreen shook like a home movie— barely focusing on a flip-flopped foot, a mound of sand, and the bright blue sky above before tumbling crazily toward something new. But whoever was operating the camera soon got her bearings, and a wide and barren landscape finally came into view.
“I hope you guys are getting this.”
Becker immediately recognized the Australian accent of Casey Lake, and deduced that the footage had been shot via the wireless Seeing-Eye attachment available on all the Toolshed’s latest optics.
“We lost radio contact with Central Command approximately one hour ago, but we’ll continue broadcasting just in case.” A gust of wind caused Casey’s microphone to pop and skip, but the audio quickly recovered. “Update is as follows.”
The camera began to march slowly up the rise of a sand dune.
“Away team arrived End of the Line to find station staff absent and no visible sign of the missing train. Initial sweep yielded no evidence of theft or intrusion, but following a hunch, Fixer Simms uncovered a set of tracks leading directly into the Middle of Nowhere—”
Becker was stunned to be looking at actual footage of that forbidden wasteland on the very edge of The Seems—especially when Casey crested the hill and peered down upon the other side.
“This is what we found when we followed those tracks.”
Stashed in the valley formed by a ring of towering dunes was a rusty red caboose, half-buried in the sand. The train it had once been attached to was nowhere in sight, nor were the rails it must’ve ridden to get there. In fact, the only other things visible onscreen were the sweeping sands and two figures scrambling around the car, both wearing Extremely Cool Outfits™ to protect themselves from the heat.
“How in the name of the Plan did it get there?” asked the white-haired old woman who was sitting directly to Becker’s right. “I don’t see any train tracks.”
“Please hold your questions until we reach the end of the clip, Sylvia,” answered a voice with a thick African accent.
“Sorry, Jelani.”
Becker bit his own tongue and refocused his attention onscreen, where a massive figure was poking his head from beneath the abandoned caboose.
“Locking clamp snapped like twig.” As usual, the Sprecheneinfaches ™ struggled to translate the Fixer known as Greg the Journeyman’s obscure Yakutsk dialect. “What could do such thing?”
“Smell that Scratch?” Casey sniffed the air, and the Journeyman did the same. “It’s London to a brick that a Brainstorm came through there.”
Fixer Lake tilted her eyes (and the camera) up to the roof, where the third member of the away team was sitting in the lotus position, eyes closed, arms extended.
“Po, you picking up anything?”
The inscrutable Li Po, #1 on the Duty Roster, silently shook his head no.
“Me neither.” Casey spat with frustration, then spoke directly to whoever might be listening to her broadcast. “If you’re getting this back home, we’re pretty much flying blind out here when it comes to the 7th Sense. Can only assume that stories about Middle of Nowhere are true, and will compensate accordingly—”
“Cassiopeia!”
The voice of an Englishwoman called out, and Casey turned the camera toward where the caboose would be heading if it were still attached to a train. A slender figure was emerging from a path that cut between the dunes.
“No more tracks, as far as my Trinoculars™ can see,” said Fixer #11, Lisa Simms. “But I do see puffs of smoke in the direction of the mountains.”
“Then that where we must go,” said Greg, and despite the shadow that came over Fixer Simms’s face, she agreed.
It was easy to see why the Powers That Be had assigned this particular group of Fixers. Casey was a no-brainer for team leader, and if there was any chance of 7th Sensing where the missing train might be, Li Po would be the one to feel it. Greg the Journeyman’s physical strength was the stuff of legend, while Lisa Simms was the only active Fixer to have entered the Middle of Nowhere and lived to tell the tale. With such a mighty collection of talent, Becker couldn’t fathom what went wrong.
He was about to find out.
“All right, mates.” Onscreen, Casey Lake was pulling a hand-painted Turf Board™ out of her Toolkit. “Let’s get after these whackers . . .”
But their departure was interrupted by the sight of Fixer #1 rising to his feet atop the caboose and extending a finger off toward the horizon.
“What’s wrong, Po?”
Casey and the others turned in the direction he was pointing to see a strange light emanating from somewhere on the other side of the dunes. Whatever the source, it was almost as bright as the sun shining over their heads.
“It is . . . werry beautiful,” whispered Greg the Journeyman, and when he turned to the increasingly shaky camera, there were tears rolling down his bearded cheeks. As if to confirm his opinion, Casey turned her gaze back toward the light, which was so bright now that it hurt to look at even in the screening room.
“Cover your eyes, people!” The broadcast was starting to flicker and skip. “Cover your eyes!”
Greg directly ignored her order, stumbling even closer to the source of the eerie illumination, while Lisa Simms had switched over to Night Shades™ and was desperately flipping to the darkest setting.
“Cassiopeia, I think we should—”
But the woman who was the first violinist for the London Philharmonic in her “real job” could not muster the strength to finish the sentence. Fixer Simms collapsed to the ground with her hands over her eyes and rolled into a little ball. And the light got brighter still.
“What is it, Po?” Fixer Lake shouted, and for the first time since they’d met three years ago, Becker heard fear in her voice.
“What’s happening?”
On the roof of the caboose, Li Po was also wiping streaks from his eyes, but from the smile on his face, he appeared to be laughing, not crying. Then the unquestioned master of the 7th Sense turned toward the camera and did something he hadn’t done in almost thirty years.
He spoke.
&n
bsp; “The Most Amazing Thing of All.”
The last thing Becker saw was Casey Lake digging a hole in the sand beneath her feet—as if she might claw her way to some refuge from the unbearable brightness. And then, in a flash . . .
. . . the video went white.
JOHN HULME AND MICHAEL WEXLER
are also the authors of The Seems: The Glitch in Sleep and The Seems: The Lost Train of Thought. They accidentally stumbled upon the existence of The Seems after opening an unlocked Door in Wilmington, North Carolina, during the summer of 1995. From that moment on, they were obsessed with the curious realm and sought to pen a book series based on their discovery. Though the project was held up in administrative Red Tape for nearly eleven years, the Powers That Be finally signed off on its release, resulting in the text you now hold.
Hulme lives with his wife, Jennifer, and his children, Jack and Madeline, in a small New Jersey town with crookety sidewalks and tree-lined streets.
Wexler was recently spotted near Tatoosh, Washington. The sighting was never confirmed.
www.theseems.com
Books by John Hulme and Michael Wexler
The Seems: The Glitch in Sleep
The Seems: The Split Second
The Seems: The Lost Train of Thought
Praise for
A Kidsreads.com Best Book
“This sequel continues to develop a truly ingenious setting while proving every bit as much of a nail-biter as the first.” —Booklist
“Hilarious wordplay, capitalized idiomatic expressions, puns, and figures of speech propel the plot along at a manic pace. . . . Advise readers to approach this book with a Grain of Salt and with Tongue firmly in Cheek for a wild ride.” —SLJ
Praise for
